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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065431">home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/junhuist/pseuds/junhuist'>junhuist</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SEVENTEEN (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Drabble, Fluff, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and it’s fluff galore from there, failed surprises, junhui misses wonwoo, wonwoo misses junhui</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:55:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>886</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065431</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/junhuist/pseuds/junhuist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Wonwoo is home.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jeon Wonwoo/Wen Jun Hui | Jun</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>this is just a short drabble i wrote at 1 am, and was initially inspired by ben and ben’s ride home (you guys should check them out!! they’re a filipino band but they have english songs; ride home is in english!) but there’s less ride and more home :D</p><p> </p><p>i hope you guys enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Junhui is positioned right in front of the stove, carefully adding parsley to the sauce boiling on the pot, when he hears the rustling of keys and his apartment door being pushed open.</p><p>He pretends not to hear, however. Instead, he shifts his focus to the kitchen counter where his earphones are located. Gingerly, he takes both of them out of its pristine case and slots them snuggly to his ears. Then, he continues to stir the pot as if it’s just a regular day.</p><p>It’s not just a regular day. No, not when he hasn’t seen Wonwoo in five months. Not when his return is far earlier than what he had promised Junhui between slow kisses and hasty goodbyes. <em>He was planning to surprise you</em>, Soonyoung had confessed after he had accidentally slipped that Wonwoo’s internship would be finishing a month before its initial end. So, Junhui pretends, even when his whole body yearns to run up to the door and welcome his partner, hold him tightly and never let go, never let distance separate them the way it did these past five months. He pretends because he knows Wonwoo is the last man to ever plan surprises, and this moment is one of the few, and he’s a <em>very</em> sulky person.</p><p>He hums a soft tune, one from a song he heard on the car radio a couple days prior. He lifts the wooden spoon and tastes the sauce. More pepper, he decides.</p><p>“You know your phone’s not connected to your earphones, right?”</p><p>Junhui startles, jumping like a cat and holding his hand to his heart to stop the erratic beating. “Jesus Christ, Wonwoo!” He says because he hadn’t noticed another presence in the kitchen, but it’s drowned out by the deep, loud laughter that escapes from the other’s lips, and when Junhui finally turns around, he catches his boyfriend bent forwards and his nose scrunched adorably. Clutched in his left hand is Junhui’s phone that he’d left atop the kitchen island, void of any streaming site that could provide evidence of music playing. He can’t bring himself to be upset, not when Wonwoo’s finally right in front of him, looking as angelic as he always does and, frankly, more real and tangible than through a FaceTime call.</p><p>Suddenly (because he doesn’t know when the tears even formed) he chokes out a tiny sob, and immediately (because it took less than five seconds for Wonwoo to round the island and reach him) he’s being tugged into a tight embrace and his head’s being tucked in the crook of his shoulder. Just like that, the distance is long, long gone.</p><p> </p><p>Junhui’s tears end up soaking the younger’s jumper, but Wonwoo doesn’t mind, not really. In fact, he hasn’t been able to stop thanking the heavens for bringing him home, safe and sound; for having one Wen Junhui await his arrival, nevermind that his surprise didn’t go according to plan. So he lets the tears dampen his torso and takes his own deep breaths, because he can’t have the two of them crying midday and falling asleep afterwards. There are bags to unpack and clothes to put in the laundry.</p><p>When the tears cease to flow, and the hiccups that escape Junhui’s lips do so in longer intervals, Wonwoo carefully nudges him. Junhui whines, burying his face further on his neck and gripping the other’s waist tighter. Wonwoo lets out an amused snort before placing his palms on both of his cheeks, forcing him to look up.</p><p>“Hi,” Wonwoo begins, and Junhui pouts. The younger squishes his cheeks and the pout deepens. Junhui pries his hands away, so Wonwoo removes one of them and places it on the small of his back, instead, drawing him even closer.</p><p>“Surprise?” He continues, cheeky smile and all, and Junhui erupts into laughter. <em>God, his laugh is so beautiful</em>, Wonwoo thinks, <em>he’s so beautiful.</em></p><p>When Junhui sobers a bit more, he recounts to him what Soonyoung had revealed. Wonwoo merely shrugs. He already had a feeling that would happen, anyway.</p><p>“You’re not upset?” Junhui inquires, taking his bottom lip between his teeth. Wonwoo stares at his mouth a beat too long.</p><p>“To be honest, I had a plan and everything,” Wonwoo admits, “thought of sending an orchestra before I came and swept you off your feet.”</p><p>Junhui’s eyes glisten in delight. “You’re such a fake.”</p><p>“I’m serious!” Junhui teasingly raises his eyebrow at that, “okay, maybe not the orchestra, but I was going to get you pretty cupcakes.”</p><p>“And what stopped you?” Junhui asks, pout returning. He could do cupcakes right now.</p><p>Wonwoo points to his luggage and two carry-ons, “only have two hands, remember?” Junhui swats his shoulder. “Besides,” Wonwoo continues, staring directly at Junhui’s eyes, “I’d rather eat something else tonight.”</p><p>A pause. And then, “you’re so shameless!” Followed by, “oh shit, the marinara sauce!”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p><em>Wonwoo is home</em>, Junhui thinks later that night, when his head rests on the chest of the younger, his arm wrapped comfortably around his bare torso. <em>Wonwoo is home</em>, he thinks, as he listens to the light snores that fill their bedroom for the first time in five months. <em>Wonwoo is home</em>, as he feels the heartbeat that mimics his own, steady and strong with so much love to give.</p><p> </p><p>Wonwoo is home.</p>
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